It's Politics
by The Domino Lady
Summary: Not all the influential and often frightening people working behind the scenes in government were Scottish men.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, new story.**

**This has been in my head for a while and I decided to start writing a few random scenes, which turned into a full story. It'll focus around my OC Katherine, and her behind the scenes at government as well as her relationships with the other characters, primarily Malcolm, (and a bit of Jamie). **

**You might be wondering where the **_**romance**_** is at first but it's a-coming, (it's hard to resist Peter Capaldi, isn't it?) **

**Oh and there **_**will**_** be smut. **

* * *

Katherine paced in front of the window of her flat, chewing on the inside of her mouth and listening to the sound of the heavy rain being thrown against the glass by the wind. Her phone sat black and silent on the kitchen table and she looked at it with a frown, arms crossed. She'd been mulling over the decision for months now, but actually picking up the phone and making the call proved to be a challenge. The sky had clouded over quickly before the rain began, and she hadn't yet turned the lights on, and so the room was cast in a blue hue from the muted television.

She let out a long sigh and shook her head at her own cowardice, before resolutely crossing the room to grab her phone. Her contact list was wrong, and she scrolled down until she reached 'M' and called the first contact. He answered within only a few rings.

"Been a while since I've seen your name flash up on my phone. I assume things have gone tits up in Ireland?" Malcolm answered. She bit back an amused smile, and couldn't deny being pleased to hear his voice again.

"No, Dublin's lovely actually, made some new friends, people have stopped stealing my lunch money." She sat down at the table and crossed her legs.

"Have you rung me at work just to tell me that?" He asked, and she could almost see him smirking in her mind's eye.

"Most people aren't still working at 8pm." She pointed out.

"Don't need to tell you that I'm not most people, love." He said, and she smiled and leaned back in her chair. "Now, what are you ringing for?"

"Well, as lovely as Dublin is, I have to admit that Irish government isn't quite as interesting as British. I've been keeping an eye on the news; your old Minister for Government Policy isn't coming off all that well. Is it true that he did a bit of expenses fiddling when he was a junior minister?" She spoke with mock curiosity.

"Old news. You've obviously still got your mates over here." He replied. "We've got a lid on it."

"Sure you couldn't use an extra pair of hands?" She strongly hinted.

"We could always use somebody to get the coffees." He said.

"Very funny." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm a good Press Officer and you said yourself you'd let me come back if there was room for me. So... is there room for me?"

There was a pause where she could tell he was intentionally leaving her hanging and enjoying her having to swallow her pride and ask him for help.

"I'm sure we can find a desk for you." He eventually said, and she couldn't help but grin. "The Department for International Development is turning to absolute shit. Ian Carter is completely fucking useless. You've worked with that department before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, Carter was a bag of shite then as well." She tucked her phone between her shoulder and her ear and stood up to put the kettle on.

"Well, the fucking press has started to notice and they're not letting it go. He keeps making a twat out of himself appearance after appearance."

"I know, they were taking the piss out of him on 'Have I Got News For You' last week, was quite funny actually." She dropped the teabag in her mug and switched on the lights in the kitchen and living room.

"Do you think you could get him sorted out? Inject some life into the department?" He asked.

"I could try. It's only International Development, they just need shitting up a bit and they'll get their arses into gear." She spooned three sugars into her tea.

"I remember why I liked having you around." He sounded slightly amused and she couldn't help but grin and feel a sense of relief. It felt a bit like preparing to go home, and she was very much ready to go home. "Can you be here in two weeks?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, eager to see me, are you?" She sat back down at her table with her cup.

"You called me. If I wanted to see you I'd have a look at those pictures I've got from Jamie's birthday do." She could hear him grinning again and she froze.

"Please fucking tell me you're joking."

"Did you ever get paid for that table dance?" He chided.

"Oh fuck off." She went a bit pink. She could barely actually remember the party herself, though everyone still went on about how drunk she'd got.

"Oi, I'm your boss again now."

"Never stopped me from telling you to fuck off last time."

"That's true, aye." He laughed a bit, something even she heard rarely. "Well I'd love to stay at chat but I've got about ten more important people waiting on the line."

"Nice to talk to you again too, Malcolm."

Katherine's new London house was a little pokier than her Dublin flat, but she took what was available at short notice and didn't need much space for just herself, she was lucky that she'd had a good enough job for a while to be able to afford a nice place even if it wasn't huge. The proximity to St James' Park helped, she enjoyed a walk when she was having a particularly stressful day.

Once she had her pictures hung, her furniture arranged and her big TV set up, the place began to feel like home, and she couldn't deny being grateful to be back in England.

As had been planned, two weeks after her phone call to Malcolm she was passing through walking up the familiar flight of stairs at Number 10 and toward Malcolm Tucker's office. She could tell a few people looked at her as she walked through the building and pretended not to; some of them probably remembered her from when she last worked there and some whispering to whoever they were walking with and explaining who she was. She almost laughed to herself; she had no idea she'd become so infamous.

Knowing that Malcolm was inclined to simply ignore the door if she knocked, she walked in as always and found him sitting at his desk on the phone, leaning back on his chair. It was as if she never left.

"Hang on a second, somebody much more important and blonde just walked in. I'll call you back." He unceremoniously hung up and she smiled with fake pride and held out her arms. "You don't look like your picture, those websites _are_ dodgy, aren't they?"

"Oh ha ha. Very droll as usual Malcolm." She closed the door behind her. "Did you miss me?" She sat herself down in the chair across from his desk, which again felt pleasantly familiar.

"Desperately," he said sarcastically, "so, how was Dublin?" He asked, resting his elbows on the table. Katherine knew better than most that he wasn't usually one for making conversation if he didn't want to; she also however knew without being immodest that she was different to most when it came to him.

She shrugged, "Job was alright, good pay and everything but it was a bit boring. They're so nice over there, not as shouty."

"You're certainly a glutton for punishment, things aren't much more _exciting_ round here."

"Not for you maybe, but you're so used to the fucking tornado of horrible frenetic energy here that you don't notice it anymore." She said. The door creaked open and Sam came in with a tray holding too cups of coffee, Katherine immediately grinned.

"Kath! I didn't know you were coming back _today_." She set the tray down on Malcolm's desk, and he looked at her with slight surprise. She was usually silent when he was meeting with someone, though it had slipped his mind how often the two used to go out for drinks when Katherine first worked there.

"Surprise," She waved her hands illustratively, "we'll get a drink tonight, yeah?"

"Definitely. Been too long since we-"

"Not to break up the fucking Atomic Kitten reunion but I don't have all day here." Malcolm frowned, having been briefly ignored for the past few minutes.

"Sorry." Sam said quietly, though Katherine could see a small smile on her lips. As she left, Katherine sent her a quick wink before the door closed again.

"She's _my_ PA you know." He said, picking up his coffee.

"Yeah, so one of us should be nice to her, eh?" Katherine took her mobile out of her jacket pocket, and checked her messages.

"Nice phone, have they got technology like that where you're from yet?"

"Was that a joke about me being from the North, Malcolm? Very clever indeed, but you're from even higher up than me." Her eyebrow quirked as she tucked her phone away again.

"Completely different country love." He handed her the other white mug, which she took and sipped. It wasn't sweet enough for her taste.

"Hmm," she blew her drink, "So, tell me about this minister than needs blooding."

"Heeey! I thought you were back today." Jamie was never one for entering a room quietly. The door swung open and bounced off the wall behind it. "I thought I could smell one too many rum and coke's coming up the stairs." He tapped her shoulder roughly.

"How lucky am I. Two comedians in the room." She stood up and put her cup down. Katherine was pleased to see Jamie as well, though she wouldn't tell him.

"It's about time you came back. What were you playing at fucking around over there? People here have forgot how fucking terrified they are of you." He put an arm around her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes.

"Jesus Christ, is there a fucking sign on my door saying 'come the fuck in, we've got free chocolate and blowjobs'?" Malcolm spoke up. Jamie shrugged, smiling, and let go of her. "Make yourself useful and show Katherine her new desk, will you? I've got people to murder."

"Can do Malc, you sure you don't want to put her through initiation? Have her go out for lunch or work as a human footstool for a day?" Jamie guided Katherine out of the door, and Malcolm offered a dry laugh as they left.

"Been a while since I've seen you, traitor." He said, walking quickly down the hall as usual so she had to keep pace. She could tell when he was joking even if though he didn't really act like he was.

"Not a traitor, Jamie, just had to make sure their people looked good, same as here. Didn't tread on your land did we? Didn't declare war or anything?" She raised her eyebrow at him.

"No, but you still buggered off to another country for a year." He said, and this time there was a genuine hint of bitterness to his tone.

"Sounds like you missed me, sweetheart." She said with a slight smirk. He stopped walking suddenly and faced her, looking a little bit annoyed.

"Don't flatter yourself, darling." He said, putting his hands on his hips.

"Why? I missed you." She said quietly.

"Did you?" He asked, cocking his head slightly.

"No." She laughed, and started quickly walking away; he caught up to her in a few strides.

"Almost forgot what a bitch you are." He was grinning. "Suppose I did miss you a wee bit."

Katherine was glad that the desk Jamie took her to was the one she'd had before and wondered if anybody had been turfed off it for her. She knew that she probably wouldn't feel as guilty about it as she should, because in her mind it was her desk even if she hadn't sat at it for over a year. It was in a corner of the room beside the window and slightly apart from the others so there was no cubicle wall in front of her.

She ran her fingertips over the smooth wood and put her bag down on her chair.

"Right, I know Malcolm wanted you on that minister's arse but we've got more pressing matters here. The press has got hold of the Minister for Government Policy expenses fiddle from about twenty fucking years ago so I need you calling up your mates and see if you can put a stopper on the story." Jamie leaned on the desk as he spoke quickly as usual.

"Seriously? Because they're going to fucking sink their teeth into that and not let go." She sat down and pulled her bag onto her lap.

"Look, I don't care how you do it just fucking do it, okay? You've only been back two minutes, where's the energy gone? Did you leave it in Ireland?" His phone rang in his inner jacket pocket and he took it out. "Get Angela Heaney first, she's been sniffing around." He said before stalking off and answering his phone.

"Good to be back." Katherine sighed and took out her phone.

It didn't take long before things in the office became much more like she remembered. As the story got more and more widespread, the place got increasingly busy until there was no one who wasn't either on the phone or frantically typing an email. There were plenty or raised voices and people trying not to sound frantic just in case they decided to report on how frantic the place was. Katherine rather loved it.

"Look, the thing is that if you look into expenses enough then no one's really got their hands clean, and you already know that." Katherine prided herself on always managing to sound perfectly calm while everything around her was chaotic and she herself was desperate to put a lid on a story.

"Care to elaborate on any others?" Kevin Manning was a freelance writer for the Telegraph, and was notoriously smarmy and always managed to find the dirty in any story even if it wasn't there.

Katherine laughed almost convincingly, and saw Jamie at the other side of the room telling off someone she didn't recognise, who looked appropriately terrified.

"Oh come on, Kevin, you're not going to get the really scandalous stories out of me that easily. All I'm saying is that the expenses thing has been done, people are bored of it and it's not like this fucker is even high up. He's Minister for Government Policy, did you even know that position existed before he fucked up?" She put her hand on her forehead, elbow on the desk, wondering exactly what her next argument was going to be.

"Besides the point isn't it? People love hearing about a politician being an idiot whether they've heard of them before or not." He replied, in an incredibly posh accent that was beginning to grate on Katherine.

Jamie crossed the room to listen to her, looking supremely wound up. She chewed the inside of her mouth, mentally debating whether or not to take the plunge with her next move.

"Always true, but people love private scandal even more than that, don't they?" She chanced a glance up at Jamie who held out his hands and mouthed, 'what the fuck?'

"Oh? Who and what?" Manning's ears certainly pricked up at that.

"All I'm saying right now is maybe someone's going through a messy divorce and maybe they're a bit higher up than our Minster for Government Policy." She screwed her eyes shut, and could feel Jamie's boring into her.

"Is that all I'm getting from you, Kathy?" She hated being called Kathy.

"For now it is, Kev. Just let me pull a few evil strings and get back to you." She hung up and dropped her phone on the desk, looking up at Jamie again.

"Fucking Miller's divorce? Are you fucking mental?" He frowned deeply.

"I haven't told him who it is yet and it's already floating around. He's dignified, he's taking the kids, he didn't cheat and he didn't fiddle any expenses. Fucking win win." She opened her email on her computer, ignoring Jamie who looked like he was about to pounce on her at any moment.

"He isn't taking the kids, and he did fucking cheat!"

"They don't know that do they?" Katherine pointed out, her voice also rising. "She gets more in the settlement if she keeps her mouth shut and it turns out that works out pretty bloody well for us at this juncture." She opened an email to Angela Heaney and started typing.

"Don't fucking tell Heaney! We haven't decided this is the best course of action yet, you know, dropping a more important minister in the shit." He leaned over her and closed the window, and she stood up irately, picking up her phone and typing out the email there instead. He walked swiftly over to his desk and made a very quick call.

"Seriously, if you fuck everything up then I swear I'll have to fuck you up." Jamie slammed the phone down, and she glowered at him across the room with a slight smirk. Hardly anyone looked up from what they were doing and the buzz of busyness still went round the room; this situation was quite normal.

"If anyone's going to fuck this up it's you! You fucking short-arse psychopath; Scottish Napoleon." She let out a low wry laugh, thumbing the keys roughly. He had a tendency to cross a room so quickly that it actually made her jump a bit when he was right in front of her.

"Hey! That's enough of the insults from you, you've only been back two minutes and we've got a massive fucking carpet bomb of shit hanging over us! We are this close to getting _fucked_ in the press tomorrow." He stepped closer to her with each sentence, his volume dropping and his tone lowering.

"Explain to me how that is my fault! In case you haven't noticed, I'm the only one of the two of us that isn't completely fucking hated by the Independent! The _Independent_ for Christ's sake! They'd take a non-committal stance on the fucking plague." She continued to type the email, increasingly wound up by Jamie and the situation itself. She could tell she was making him mad though, and she liked that.

"You know for a fact that the incident with that arsehole editor was out of my control." He kept stepping a little closer.

"Oh yeah, you absolutely just had to call him a- what was it? A 'boring, Eaton, closet cock-sucker'?" She crossed her arms and looked at him challengingly. He licked his lips and glanced around the room a little. She wasn't wrong and both of them knew it.

"If we're digging up ancient fucking history here, how about we talk about _your_ little _altercation_ with Marianne Swift from the Mail, eh?" He goaded, with a small grin when she laughed slightly in disbelief that he had remembered and irritation at the memory. "Ooh, don't tell me you've forgot about that, about getting a wee bit pissed at Robert Flack's party and getting into a little cat fight?" He spoke mockingly, moving his hands while he spoke.

"She accused me of fucking my way into my career, and I accused her right back. She instigated it when she pushed me and we're not fucking talking about that right now. We're talking about this all going tits up because it's quickly becoming common knowledge that the person in charge of telling our PM what to do is a fucking _conman_."

"Exactly, and it's your job to get it sorted out!"

"It's your job too!"

"Oh, trust me. Your neck is on the line way more than mine, love. _You've_ only been back two minutes so if and when this all gets fucked up, it'll be you that gets fucking torn apart a lot more than me. The thing is, I don't fancy getting torn apart at all." He spoke quite slowly, voice low.

"Yeah, and then you'll have to _fuck me up, right_?" She crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side and matching his volume, and he felt a familiar heat coming off her. She wasn't backing down, because she never did, and her voice had switched to the one he'd heard her used a thousand times before. Low, and silky.

"Yeah, I will." His hands were on his hips and he was leaning towards her slightly. "Would you like that?"

Her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly, and he saw the mischief dancing in her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Would I like you to fuck me up?" She could feel his breath on her face now, and she knew he was still angry though the look on his face told her it was slipping into something else.

"Hmm." He replied, running his tongue over his upper-teeth. He did that a lot, his mouth was never still.

She stepped even closer, so they were inches apart, and still nobody paid attention, or they pretended not to.

"I would love to see you _try_ and _fuck_ me up." Her lips closed around the words and left no ambiguity in her suggestion.

"Would you?" His control was slipping; she was beating him.

"Mm." She crossed her arms under her breasts, not looking away from his eyes. She saw his throat move as he swallowed, and almost grinned in triumph. "Got anything else to say, Jamie?" She asked innocently, raising her eyebrows. She saw his eyes quickly run down her throat and chest, before he considered her face a second, and walked away. She smirked to herself, and looked back at her phone.

As it turned out, spreading the divorce story turned out to be the right course of action, the press took it and ran with it due only to the fact that when speaking to anyone from any paper, they all used the phrase 'rumoured infidelity.' They didn't have to implicitly say it and knew he wouldn't be labelled an adulterer outwardly, but as long as they could use the words 'rumoured infidelity', in their articles then they knew it would be ten times more popular than a lower cabinet minister putting a few meals on his expenses in his early years.

She couldn't help feeling smugly proud of herself when Malcolm instructed everyone to run with the story, and even chanced a raised eyebrow at Jamie who still looked incredibly annoyed.

Arguments with Jamie usually ended in a similar way, though, it was the location and the position changed depending on what was available to them. On this particular occasion, if someone were to step into an office on the quiet fourth floor used for furniture storage, they would find Katherine and Jamie quite hurriedly shagging. Her knees were either side of his thighs, hips rocking frantically, as he held her with one hand up her skirt on her bare backside and the other on her hip, giving some semblance of guiding her movement though she mostly had the control. It wasn't a particularly romantic scene, with her fingers of her right hand holding onto his hair tightly and her left digging into the chair behind him for balance, and the wheels on the chair made it so they kept moving slightly, and she wasn't as grounded as she'd like to be. There was even something quite comical about it.

Jamie panted into her soft, muffled moans and the occasional hiss between her teeth, and could faintly see the outline of her breasts bouncing underneath the thin cotton of her shirt not far from his face. She hadn't opened the buttons, because she wasn't doing this to get him off, she was doing this for her, and she knew exactly the right way to move to get herself there. It didn't matter if she wasn't desperately trying to please him though, she did it naturally, there was no doubt she was an attractive woman and there was a perpetual sense of tension and rivalry between them that made this act feel slightly naughty. He would probably come before her, but she wouldn't stop, and he wouldn't let her stop until she had as well, and though she was in control this time, they'd done this enough for him to know how do reduce her to a quivering shambles in his arms.

He let go of the handfuls of her plump behind he had, and moved his fingers to the buttons on her shirt. She slowed her movements, looking down at him with a quirked eyebrow and small smirk. He looked up at her.

"Don't you dare fucking stop." He said gruffly, shifting his hips so he push further into her, and she let out a small gasp, and ran her hand through his hair to the nape of his neck, and continued her quick, small movements, him firmly inside her while she let her head fall back slightly. He opened only enough of the buttons of her shirt to press his mouth into her cleavage, kissing and biting each bit of exposed breast and fondling her roughly through her bra. She seemed to hum in approval, the increased pleasure making her unintentionally clench around him slightly.

"Oh fuck." She groaned, rolling her hips as he moved a little and hit just the right spot, through her haze, she noticed the clock on the wall, and swore again. "We... we don't have much time." He ignored her and continued thrusting his hips to meet her. "Malcolm will wonder where we- ah." She held onto his hair tighter as he bit her skin lightly.

"I don't fucking care." He grunted, not moving his mouth from her breasts and holding her hips to hold her down on him. She gripped his suit jacket between her fingers. They hadn't had time to bother with the undressing thing, this was stress relief; this was making each other finish as quickly as possible. He removed one hand from her breast and checked his watch nonetheless. "Shit."

He firmly wrapped his arms around her waist, and taking her by surprise, lifted her while he stood, surprising her with his strength as he managed to stay sheathed within her while he sat her on the edge of a nearby desk. She helped the effort by pushing his boxers and trousers down more.

"Fuck... Impressive." She panted, and just as he was about to smirk she pulled him in and kissed him firmly. He wasted no time in slipping his tongue into her mouth and grabbing her hips, beginning a quick, hard pace, making the desk shake and her eyes glaze. It didn't take long in that position for him to squeeze hold of her hips tightly, his head fell to her shoulder where he panted, grunted, and swore out his orgasm. She wasn't far behind him, and though his movement had essentially stopped save for the occasional small jerk as he continued to spill himself in her, she put one hand behind her on the surface and kept the other on his shoulder, moving herself against him until she too climaxed, letting out a rather loud moan as she did.

Neither moved for a few moments, breathing heavily and allowing themselves to calm down.

"You're still quite good at that." She commented minutes later as she found her discarded knickers on the floor and pulled them up under her skirt.

"_Quite_ good? Bollocks. You fucking love it." He zipped up his trousers and buckled his belt as she refastened the buttons of her shirt. "Your Irish boyfriends might have saved a lot of time and money if he'd known that what really gets you off is being roundly fucked in a desk chair rather than all that dating, red wine and chocolate shite."

Katherine almost laughed as she tucked in her skirt and tried to make herself look presentable in the window reflection.

"You old romantic you." She stepped in front of him and straightened his dark purple tie. "Who even said I had Irish boyfriends?" Her eyebrow rose. "And _surely_ my vagina wasn't the only thing you missed about me.

"No, I quite missed your tits as well." He smirked, and she couldn't help but chuckle. "I am glad you're back though." He looked her in the eye, and for a brief second she was taken aback by his sincerity.

"Me too," she said with a small smile, "shall we?"

"Jesus Christ, what are you two like? You've been back one day." Sam said, taking a sip of her red wine.

They'd retired to a quiet bar not far from work and Katherine felt herself realising how much she'd actually missed being able to have a drink with a female friend who knew her since she'd been away. She'd had a few friends in Dublin but she wasn't close to any of them, they'd never seen her at her worst or her best: Sam had certainly seen Katherine at her nastiest and still wanted to be friends with her. She supposed that was why she liked her; Sam certainly had a thicker skin than Malcolm gave her credit for.

"It really does help when you've had a stressful day, and I suppose it was our way of saying hello." Katherine chuckled slightly into her own glass.

"You are both as insane as each other, you should just get married." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh please, he would be an absolute fucking nightmare. Can you actually imagine living with him?"

"What _are_ you two then?"

"I don't know. We're friends I suppose. Very, very close friends." She took a long sip. They sat quietly for a while, though Katherine noticed Sam glancing from her glass to her and knew she wanted to say something.

"What?" Katherine asked with a small smile. "What debauched thing do you want to ask me about?"

"Well, I was just wondering... Have you and Malcolm talked about, you know. Since..." Even Sam looked slightly uncomfortable talking about it, as Katherine had made her swear never to bring it up when she told her.

"No, we haven't." Katherine let out a long breath. She barely allowed herself to think about it, never mind speaking about it. "It was different though. Different circumstances, different reasoning. I wonder if he kind of regrets it."

"Oh there's no way. Not only are you the most fancied woman in Spin, but you're also exactly his type." Sam picked up the bottle and refilled both their glasses.

"He chats to you all the time about his type does he? At sleepovers over ice cream and chocolate?" Katherine mocked gently. Sam laughed and shook her head.

"No, but you can just tell he likes the strong type, and I've seen you two together. Even when you're arguing it's like you could start snogging at any moment. It's probably because he's quite a bit older than you and he felt embarrassed." Sam shrugged a little. Katherine cocked her head to the side, brow furrowing, she hadn't really considered that before.

"I don't care that he's older." She said contemplatively, tapping the stem of her glass.

"Well tell him that then. And then marry him and Jamie and you can be in the most frightening bigamous relationship in history."

Katherine burst out laughing at the thought, putting her hands on her face and the rest of the night was with more glasses of wine and more sickeningly girly conversation. She was very glad to be back.

* * *

_**A/N:**_** Right, so there you go. I've been thinking about this for quite a while and thought I'd have a go at writing it. I think part of the reason there's so little Thick of It fan fiction is because it's such a daunting show to enter, the dialogue is so brilliant and hilarious that it's difficult to try and emulate.**

**Personally, I'm going to try to not copy situations from the episodes as much as I can avoid, but rather focus on the relationships between the characters and my OC; I'm not nearly educated enough on politics to seriously try and write a lot about it, so you may find that some of the language regarding it is slightly vague. I'll try where I can though to keep it realistic. **

**This story's a bit of fun, born out of my love for the show and massive crush on Malcolm Tucker/PCap, so please do review and follow and all that. **

**Finally, on ****this chapter,**** I realise there's a lot of exposition and alluding to things that haven't been made clear yet, but they will, and the pace of future chapters won't be as jumpy. **

**Enough babbling from me.**

**Fuckity bye. X **

* * *

_Disclaimer: The Thick of It isn't mine. I'm not that clever. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**2 Weeks Later**_

It took hardly any time at all to get back into the swing of things at work, despite her relatively long absence it was as if she'd never left at all. Her days were often a cycle of waking up ludicrously early, (occasionally earlier when she got an angry call off Malcolm making her go in), working through often frantic and stressful days, perhaps going out for a drink, eating fatty food and then falling gratefully into bed again, thinking of nothing but soft sheets and the smell of fabric conditioner.

She sometimes considered that this might seem an awful way to live for some people, and sometimes when she was very tired or wincing against particularly bad period pain or perhaps suffering a headache that refused to go away, that she thought it was awful too. Mostly though, she was appreciative of the fact that she was able to work at a fast pace and perhaps shout at someone, and occasionally maybe making things a little better for the right side.

One particular morning in late October, she found herself in a fairly quiet moment and able to check her email at a leisurely place.

"Katherine, Department of Social Affairs, I want you prepping Hugh Abbott for his interview on the News at One." Malcolm had a tendency to appear from nowhere and give an order before you'd even really registered his presence, though she was much more used to it than she had been at first.

"Can do." She picked up her Styrofoam coffee cup. "Good morning Malcolm, by the way." She smiled pleasantly.

"Yeah, morning morning." He didn't look up from his phone, and left the office again quickly. She sighed and picked up the coat she'd laid on the back of her chair not ten minutes before.

It was particularly bitter for an autumn day, she could see her breath in front of her as she walked like a cloud of cigarette smoke, and there was an early morning frost covering the occasional bit of green that could be seen in the city. She kept her hands deep in her pockets, and focussed on the clicking of her heels and not on the cold prickling her skin. It must not even have been 8:30, and everything thoroughly smelled of far too early. She still much preferred to sleep in even after all the years of her life she spent rising barely after dark.

She enjoyed the warmth of the coffee cup through her glove and wished she'd worn thicker tights. To anyone she passed, she looked every bit in keeping with the nicer side of the city, with her sleek black attire and her bobbed blonde hair; though as much as she loved London and as much as she had made it her home, she never got used to just the sheer largeness of it.

Through any success and influence she could not shake the nagging feeling that it was not in fact her home, that she belonged in a small Northern town with a small job and a small life. She wondered, on that cold morning, if that was why she tried so very hard to show her worth.

Katherine was glad for stepping out of the cold and into the central heating of the official looking building that still smelled new and like Ikea desks. She dropped her empty cup in a bin and made her way up the first set of several flights of stairs, taking off her gloves and tucking them into the pockets of her coat and began to unfasten the belt round her waist.

"Thought I'd help you out." The voice directly behind her startled her, and she jumped slightly.

"Jesus fuck, Malcolm." She put her hand on her chest, stopping a few steps from the top. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"I left a few minutes after you, thought it would be best if we were both on this, you know? Tag team it." He continued up the stairs. "And you walk fucking _slow." _

She rolled her eyes. "Bear in mind I'm not very tall and have to wear less comfortable shoes." She caught up to him.

"Yes yes, fucking woe is you. Right, you take the lead on this, it's your show, I'm just going to stand in the background and observe proudly." He said as they made up yet another flight.

"Like an over-zealous stage mum." She smiled a little.

"Or dad," he said as they arrived at the floor where DoSA was situated, "make daddy proud." He said quietly as they approached the offices and she screwed up her nose at the words.

"Jesus, please never say that again." She undid the buttons of her coat, tilting her chin up to look through the glass office walls for Hugh. She was well aware of people looking at Malcolm and her and pretending not to as they passed through. They were far more terrified of Malcolm; she quite enjoyed that fact. Even if she wanted to be as frightening as him, there was no way she could pull it off. Malcolm was a special brand of bastard. Waitrose bastard.

"A little birdie tells me that you're to be interviewed on the News at One. Lucky you, getting all famous." She stepped into Hugh's office, with Malcolm close behind her, and he looked appropriately startled. "Have they asked you to be on Big Brother yet?"

"They're going to be here in an hour. He's fully prepped on the whole budget cuts stuff." The tall, curly haired man that Katherine had barely noticed upon entering spoke up.

"Who's the manchild?" Katherine asked Hugh, pointing to the now slightly offended looking guy.

"Ollie." Hugh said. "I thought you were in Ireland." He sounded slightly apprehensive. Katherine in honesty could barely recall meeting him but knew he hadn't been in the position for very long.

"I was, and now I'm here. Backstreet's back." She held out her arms. "Nice to meet you by the way Ollie." She held out her hand for him to shake, which he did, seemingly a little tentative. "Right Hugh, I assume you saw Jeremy Young on The Sunday Politics?"

"Everybody saw it, it was like a air-raid siren of incompetence but more shrill." He said rubbing his face. "Robyn! Could you get us some coffees please?"

"He got fucking out-argued by that woman who _didn't_ win The Apprentice." Katherine shrugged off her coat. "Which makes it extra important that you manage not to fuck up this interview."

"How could I fuck it up? It's the afternoon news, all I'm doing is reassuring that no one's going to be losing their jobs and the cuts will help economic growth. It's textbook stuff." He said. A short blonde woman came in holding a tray of mugs; Katherine guessed that was Robin.

"Thanks," Katherine put her fingertips on the desk, aware of Malcolm sill hovering behind her, "the thing is Hugh, and no offence, but you have a tendency to make even textbook stuff sound... What's the word?" She thought for a moment, "really, really shit."

Ollie snickered a bit and Katherine glanced at him and back at Hugh.

"What? That's not true." Hugh said defensively.

"Actually, it is." Malcolm finally spoke. "On telly you come off as interesting as a fucking book of carpet samples."

"Well, what am I supposed to do differently?" Hugh asked, resigned.

"Get a new head?" Ollie suggested with a smirk, Katherine and Malcolm looked at him pointedly and he swallowed.

"Smile a bit, be charming, reassuring." Katherine spoke with exaggerated calmness. "Let the people know that if there's anyone they can trust, it's Hugh Abbott." She picked up her drink and took a sip. It was too strong. "Also, is that the tie you're wearing?"

"Yes, that's why I'm wearing it." He looked at it. "What's wrong with it? It's a tie."

"It's _grey_ Hugh, it just accentuates the grey suit and the grey hair and the grey personality." She waved her hand.

"I'd completely forgotten how nice you are." Hugh mumbled, pulling the knot open. "I don't have a spare tie here."

"Why the fuck don't you have a spare tie, Hugh? This is fucking Politics 101." She said irately, taking out her phone to get someone to bring a new tie.

"Minister, the BBC people are here." A rather dumpy woman with short hair and wearing a tad too much makeup had entered the office. Katherine looked at the uncharacteristically quiet Malcolm who wasn't giving anything away. He was observing for the moment.

"You said one hour, Harry Potter." Katherine directed her irritation at Ollie, hands on her hips.

"That's what Terri told me." He said defensively, pointing at her.

"No, I said 9am." She said firmly.

"You said 10am." Hugh said with a slight sigh.

"You definitely did, Terri." Ollie added on. Katherine rolled her eyes as they continued to argue.

"Well fucking look at that, this argument means that the BBC people are magically not here and are not currently on their way. How fucking brilliant is that?" Her voice dripped with irritated sarcasm. "Ollie, give him your tie."

"What? It's my-" He began.

"Give him your tie before I come over there and take it off you, and to be honest

I don't think the sexual tension between us has built to that yet." She turned to face Terri. "Go downstairs, greet them, usher them up, let them get their cameras and inane questions ready and don't look _flustered_."

"Sorry, have we met?" Terri asked slightly testily. Katherine's eyebrow arched and she looked over at Ollie who paused in pulling off his tie.

"No we haven't actually, I'm Katherine nice to meet you," she smiled brightly, "now could you please kindly fuck off downstairs and give the BBC arseholes some tea?" She turned Hugh, who was looping the now blue-striped tie through his collar. "Right, the line is that the school budget cuts are incredibly unfortunate, as cuts always are, but very necessary in the long run and you can be assured that there will be no difference in the quality of the CRB checks and everybody's jobs are perfectly safe."

"Where _are_ the cuts then?" Ollie chipped in.

"Funding for extra-curricular activities." Katherine shrugged. "Sports clubs and all that bollocks."

"Parents love all that shit though." Hugh said, standing up and knotting the tie.

"Yeah they do, that's why you're not going to mention they'll be getting less of it." She said firmly, and looked out of the window in time to see Terri leading a small TV crew into the offices. "Remember, smile, be charming and remember that if you mess this up I will actually kill you with the nearest blunt object. No pressure."

They left the office ahead of Katherine and Malcolm who hung back to watch the interview through the window of the office. She let out a long breath and crossed her arms.

"You've not lost your touch." Malcolm said quietly, standing beside her, pile of papers and diary as usual tucked under his arm. She looked sideways at him, fighting off a smile.

"I think I might get a t-shirt printed saying 'Malcolm Tucker gave me a compliment.'" She said back, also keeping her voice low, watching as a young man in a scruffy t-shirt placed Hugh in front of the 'DoSA' sign and set up the camera.

"Just an observation, don't get excited, love."

She almost made a snarky comment in return, but chose to merely roll her eyes as she often did. The interviewer began to speak, but Katherine could barely make it out.

"Can't hear shit in here." She carefully opened the door of the office and she and Malcolm quietly left and stood themselves just in Hugh's line of vision. The interviewer was no one particularly special, and seemed quite young; this often meant that they wouldn't be overly pushy with the questions they asked.

"... What would you say to parents who are concerned about the quality of their children's schools?" He asked in that overly cheery reporter voice.

"I would say that as a parent myself, I would never support a bill that would harm the quality of education in this country." Hugh said, and even gave a small smile. Katherine sent a slightly impressed look to Malcolm.

"Is it true that this will directly effect after-school clubs and sports initiatives that your government set up?" He pressed. Katherine swore internally and crossed her arms, willing him to blag it away smoothly.

"We- well, at this time, we believe that it will not in fact effect any of the um... After school clubs." He lied. Katherine looked at him with fury and willed him to look at her so he would know how dead he was.

"Fuck's sake." She heard Malcolm whisper.

"Minister, thank you." The interviewer concluded.

"Thank you very much." Hugh replied with an uneasy smile. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around for Ollie, catching his eye and clicking her fingers to get his attention. She beckoned him over, and he did so, looking concerned also.

"Ollie, you said you'd prepped the Minister before I got here," she spoke in hushed tones, not wanting to alert the crew as they packed up.

"I did, I did; I said the same stuff as you." He said quickly.

"Did you say that it's usually not a good idea to fucking lie to the press when they'll _definitely find out about it_?" She hissed,

"I thought that was a given." He defended, glancing over at Hugh who was now making his way towards them. Katherine wasn't really angry with Ollie but she needed to tell someone off immediately.

"That wasn't good, was it?" Hugh said solemnly when he came over.

"No, it fucking was not." Katherine said sharply.

"You know as soon as the full extent of the cuts comes out you are going to be branded a fucking liar." Malcolm said, stepping forward slightly. He always managed to be imposing despite physically not being particularly intimidating.

"I didn't know what else to say: 'yes, we are cutting funded sports initiatives we started and your kids going to get morbidly obese.'"

"You say fucking _anything_ else Hugh, you change the subject, you dodge the question. Are you actually a politician?" Katherine seethed and took out her phone like a reflex. "Christ, somebody get me another cup of coffee so I can fucking scold you. We need you to row back on this, just be glad this is the afternoon news and not something actually fucking important." She stormed away, bringing her phone to her ear and they watched her go.

"Jesus, we thought _you_ were frightening." Hugh said to Malcolm, who couldn't deny feeling the slightest bit of amusement at the irritated blonde. It was rare that he didn't have to completely take control of a situation when something went wrong. He trusted that Katherine knew what she was doing; she always did.

The rest of the morning was filled with frantic phone-calls and a lot of moving from building to building. Eventually, Katherine ended up at the BBC herself, trying to talk the editor first out of running the story at all (something she knew would never happen), and finally to stressing its importance less.

"Look," she was sitting in the editing suite itself a few hours before air, she couldn't believe how far away 1pm was and she paid no attention to how her feet ached, "as I've said, if you can bring this story down the running order and not announce it as a top headline I can in the near future release to you insider information on far more important events and people." She was on what was possibly her fifth coffee of the day and was quite thankful really for being sat down.

"And I'm supposed to just take your word for it, am I?" The older man in front of her asked sceptically, crossing his arms over his salmon shirt.

"Yes, because you know it's worth something." She raised her eyebrow. "I've never made empty promises, have I?" She pointed out. "I know it's tempting to want to make Hugh Abbott look a prick but he does that himself anyway, doesn't he? I'm a fucking magical genie offering you a few wishes if you just make him look a bit less of a prick, yeah?"

He considered her a moment, arms still cross, before letting out a breath and shaking his head before wheeling the chair up to the computer.

"I'll bring him down the running order, alright?" He sounded completely displeased to be doing it but resigned to her reasoning. She fought off grinning as widely as she wanted to.

"Good man," she stood up and clapped her hand on his shoulder, "I won't forget this, okay?"

"Okay, okay." He sighed irately, and she pursed her smiling lips a she left the room.

"Tatty-bye!" She called cheerily, pushing her luck just a bit.

As she left the building and stepped back into the cold, she pulled out her phone and called Hugh Abbott.

"I have a feeling you're going to tell me something awful." He said when he answered.

"Au contraire. You'll still see yourself on the news this afternoon but looking like little bit less of a twat than you were going to. I've sorted it." She spotted a homeless man sitting a few paces in front of her and dug in her pocket.

She heard Hugh sigh with relief, "Well thank you, did you have to murder anybody?"

"In spirit, a couple of people I guess." She dropped a five-pound note into the empty biscuit tin in front of him and heard him mutter thank you. "Now get back to work, it's not even fucking lunchtime yet." She dropped her phone in her pocket and continued a little ways down the street.

"What did you give him money for?" She hadn't noticed a tall man she didn't know catching up to her until he spoke. She frowned and stopped, a little confused.

"Sorry?" She asked. He looked a bit younger than her and wore a long grey coat, a pressed suit clearly underneath. Whoever he was, he'd obviously tried very hard to adopt the foppish city-boy look with his tie slide and silly fluffy hair.

"You know he's just going to buy alcohol and drugs with it, don't you?" He actually sneered. Katherine almost laughed in disbelief at the walking stereotype before her and shook her head, looking from the homeless man a few meters away from them and then back at the rude stranger.

"I think if I was living on the streets in mid-October I'd probably want to be fucking off my head as well, luckily that's not a problem for me, nor is it for you, so do me a favour and fuck off mate." She stalked away, not looking back to see if he'd continued walking or if she'd left him with that stupid shocked look on his stupid face.

Dealing with horrible people was a pretty normal thing to happen, but it never failed to rile her when people chose to be abhorrent for know apparent reason. She was not far from the DoSA building and feeling increasingly chilly when her phone rang in her coat pocket. She took off one glove with her teeth to answer.

"Hello?"

"Katherine, the Telegraph have got hold of Transport's cock up with passing on private information to dodgy benefactors. I need you on it." Malcolm didn't really bother with 'hello.' "Oh, and well done on the Abbott thing, you might make me proud yet."

Another long day, another pair of aching feet and eyes that didn't want to be open anymore. The office was clearing out, people occasionally saying goodbye as she typed her last emails and made the final phone call of the day. She stifled a yawn and glanced out of the window while her fingers clicked on the keys. It was almost dark outside already and she was regretting her decision to walk that morning, debating just sleeping at her desk rather than walking home in the cold. She closed all the windows and shut down the computer before standing to pull on her coat.

"Are you walking?" Malcolm came into the room, his own long coat and scarf on.

"Bloody hell, this is early for you." She said as she fastened the buttons.

"Yeah well I feel like fucking death and there's no one else I need to bollock today." He said, voice scratchy, and as she considered him she noticed he didn't actually look great. He was paler than usual apart from the end of his nose, which was very pink and looked sore and she noticed the bags under his eyes were deeper than normal.

"Are you alright?" She asked with genuine concern.

"I'm fine, it's just a bad cold." He shrugged it off. "I'll give you a lift." She followed him out of the office and into the dim hall where the cleaner had switched off a few of the lights.

"I'll be okay; you live in the other direction. There's no need to be chivalrous when you just need to chug a pint of Night Nurse and go to bed." She smiled slightly as they made down the many flights of stairs. "You walk home at this time plenty."

"Well, luckily for me I'm not an attractive, blonde young woman. Unfortunately, you are and there's a lot of fucking scumbags around." They left out of a back door where a small car park was situated and Malcolm's was one of the few vehicles left. Katherine quite liked it when it got dark early; autumn and winter were her time, she liked coats and gloves and wasn't good in heat. "As if I'd let you walk home alone in the dark." He mumbled, unlocking the car.

"I can handle myself, you know. I'm no weakling." She defended, opening the passenger door and slipping in.

"Well, it's for my benefit then, so I can sleep easy knowing you're home completely un-assaulted, and not having bashed some twat's head in for nicking your handbag." He slammed the car door shut, and immediately upon starting the car turned on the heating. It was a nice enough car, not too flash, but the seats were heated and that was the best thing to her at that moment.

"Fair enough then," she fastened her seatbelt and relaxed against the seat, "this is a little bit nicer than walking home in the cold as well." She sighed, enjoying the warmth and being able to actually relax for the first time that day.

It was quite pleasant to be with Malcolm again outside a work situation. He'd given her lifts before, and she'd forgotten how much she used to enjoy being in his car, warm and comfortable and smelling off his aftershave. Well, it wasn't the car that smelled of his aftershave it was him, and it was in fact a lovely scent. She briefly hoped her perfume had lasted that day given all the running around she was doing, while she was considering how clean and nice he smelled he might have been wondering why he'd offered this sweaty cow a lift.

"So, have your first couple of weeks back been everything you hoped and dreamed they would be?" He asked after she told him her new address.

"Oh, everything and more," she said with exaggerated cheer, and he laughed slightly. She smiled, "I am glad to be back though. It's just _better_. Ireland feels very European and just ages away even though it isn't, and that job was fucking _boring_. I've been up and down like a blue-arse fly since I got here."

"Yeah, it's a wee bit fucking hectic." He sounded tired. "Everybody knows that the PM's on his last legs, and they're fucking torn as to whether they're going to back Tom, or risk it on someone else."

"Tom'll get in, rival candidates won't get enough support, no one has the bollocks." She yawned, looking out of the window. "I don't even want to think about that right now, I just want to have some food and have a bath and maybe a lager and go to bed forever."

"You're living a wild life, aren't you?" They were getting close to her house now.

"Yeah well, I like it fine."

"Of course you do. Building after building of people designed specifically for you to shout at and emasculate." He looked at her sideways, amusement on his face.

"Good point. I take liking it back actually. I fucking love it." She grinned and then touched her forehead. "I do feel a little bit guilty with how embarrassed they get sometimes, like I've told everybody how little their cocks are."

"You could probably be accurate with a few of them." He grumbled.

"Piss off. I've never had sex with a Minister, it's against interest and they're all about as interesting and attractive as fucking invasive surgery." She said indignantly, still smiling a bit.

"What about Dan Miller?"

"Rumour. He's quite loyal to his wife actually and he's a bit C3PO for my liking anyway." She crossed her ankles in front of her. When she looked at him she saw a faint ghost of thinly veiled confusion there. "Jesus Christ Malcolm, of all the fucking DVD's you own you've still not seen it, have you?"

"I never have time to actually fucking watch any of them, do I? They just get bought for me." He pointed out, sounding ever so slightly defensive.

"Maybe if you actually took a couple of days off for a change." She raised her eyebrow. He didn't answer, just shook his head slightly as he pulled down her road. "Just here, tah."

"Quite a nice place actually." He said, peeking out of the window.

"Yeah, it's alright. Clean and safe and everything." She shrugged, and opened the car door. "Thanks for the lift, I think you were probably right about not walking home." She started to get out.

"I don't even get a kiss or a sneaky quick hand-job? I _did_ do you a favour." He chided.

"And with your sharp satirical wit, you summarise why I do _not_ have a boyfriend." She shook her head, smiling sarcastically. "Night."

"See you tomorrow."

Katherine shut the car door and made her way to the front door of her building, the chill hitting her harder after the warmth of the car. She was aware of Malcolm's car still humming behind her and she could tell he was watching her into the building. She supposed it was quite nice of him really and gave an exaggerated wave before stepping through the door.

She immediately went upstairs and set a bath running, swirling in some lavender bubble bath, before heading back downstairs to make herself a cup of tea. The small kitchen was connected to the living room with a little round table; she liked to have somewhere to sit and read her paper than wasn't the couch, where she was sure to get distracted by the TV or just fall asleep.

Deciding that food was probably a good idea as her stomach groaned, she took a plate of the night before's pizza from her fridge and leaned against the counter, listening for the last of the hot water trickling into the bath, and eating a few slices gracelessly.

It probably wasn't recommended, she knew, to stuff down two large slices of pizza and then drink tea in a hot bath, but she didn't really care. All that she cared about in that moment was the just bearably hot water relaxing her muscles and wetting the tips of her hair. She closed her eyes, and leaned back in the water, letting out a long breath.

Her phone, as always, buzzed on the towel beside the bath (not the best place to keep a phone), and she groaned. With what felt like great effort, she shifted forward in the water and shook her hands to pick up the stupid thing.

It was a text from Jamie and was straight to the point:

'_Ring me. Say something dirty.' _

No kisses or smilies or anything, not even a little winky face. She rolled her eyes and sat back in the water carefully. These texts weren't uncommon and when the mood struck she was happy to reply, she couldn't deny quite liking it herself; but in that moment she was having a bath and a cup of tea.

'_I'm having a bath. Don't you have an internet connection in your house?'_

She was a master of texting quickly, and so was he, so his reply was swift.

'_In the bath, perfect. The mental image is nice but you've got a phone with a camera on it haven't you?'_

She groaned; he really was a complete penis at times.

'_You know I don't send dirty pictures, Jamie, it's basically rule one of working in politics. I can refer you to some good sites if you want? What's your fancy this week Bestiality? Asphyxiation? Women dressed up like bunny rabbits?'_

She smirked at her own joke and crossed her legs on the side off the bath to cool down a little. Disappointingly, he pretended she hadn't made the joke at all.

'_I heard you completely tore into Simon Frost the other day. I quite like it when you go all evil bitch and nearly make someone cry.' _

He had a good accent for translating to text and she was almost a little amused.

'_Well, there's some ladies that'll gladly beat you up and call you a little bitch until you're weeping and begging for it for a price, give them a ring, because I'm having a wash and going to fucking bed.'_

* * *

**I'm really unsure anyone will read this but please let me know if you do. **

* * *

_Disclaimer: The Thick of It does not belong to me, unfortunately_


End file.
